


Drained

by Mrachna



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bladder Control, Desperation, Established Relationship, F/F, Kink Negotiation, Lesbian Sex, Medical Kink, Omorashi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Urination, Vaginal Fingering, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-22 07:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12476920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrachna/pseuds/Mrachna
Summary: “It’s just another form of losing control.” Angela explains, the smile on her face open and unassuming.





	1. Riverbed

**Author's Note:**

> More self-indulgent porn? Me? I don't know what you're talking about. Usually, I post things when they're completed; this is my second pop at writing something while the first part is posted. We don't talk about the first attempt; let's just say I absolutely tanked at Kinktober last year. As usual, not beta-read.
> 
> Also, this isn't a gift for her but a big happy birthday to [this lil' pumpkin♥](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicknameMercy)
> 
> I have a [Tumblr](http://mrachna.tumblr.com), come and say hello!

“I want to see you piss yourself.” Says Angela out of the blue one day while she and Fareeha are sitting together in the Gibraltar base. They’re alone in a common area; something that rarely happens. The base is always so busy and full of people that there’s constantly someone coming and going, passing through for various reasons from getting food to finding someone who’s missing.

“It’s just another form of losing control.” Angela explains, the smile on her face open and unassuming. After a pause, she clarifies; “well, giving up control.” Fareeha is stunned. She’s not inexperienced with sex, be it vanilla or kinky, but there are some things she’s never even entertained the thought of trying and this is one of them.

“If you have any questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.” Angela offers, eyes searching Pharah’s as if she was trying to read Fareeha’s mind. “Concerns, too. And there’s no pressure! I know it’s a little… Unconventional.”

“I - “ Fareeha starts to speak and then pauses, taking a deep breath. “I’m not saying no, but I want to think about it first.”

“Of course!” One thing about Angela Ziegler is that she’s like an open book, her emotions always obvious in personal situations. In her job as a medic it’s a completely different story, but between Angela and Fareeha there are no secrets. The day Fareeha had told Angela her biggest secret was the day that the two of them became real; from them on there was nothing hidden. Nothing to hold them back.

“Isn’t it messy and dirty?” Fareeha muses out loud, mindlessly fiddling with the beads on the front strands of her hair.

“It’s mostly sterile. But definitely messy; in fact, I dare say that it’s part of the appeal.” Mercy’s blue eyes are shining brightly, her hands folded in her lap.

“Run it by me again?”

“Um, sure… You drink a lot of water, and then you hold your bladder for as long as you can.” Fareeha’s nose has a tiny wrinkle in it, the minuteness of it making it barely noticeable to Angela.

“So you like pee? Do you want to pee on me?”

“It’s not the pee. Not really. It’s part of it, but for me it’s mostly about watching the way people react when you deny them something that they need.” Angela’s hands move uselessly as she talks, trying to emphasize her point with gestures. “If you tell someone not to cum - they don’t need to cum. If you tell someone not to pee, that’s not something they can obey for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“Eventually, they will.” Pharah muses out loud in response, starting to better see the point that her girlfriend is making. She can’t deny that she’s intrigued. “Have you done it before?”

“Yes,” Angela answers easily, “I’ve held it and made other people hold it.”

“How does it feel?” Brown eyes meet blue as Angela starts to reminisce.

“Embarrassing.” Fareeha’s head tilts a little, glinting golden beads gently hitting the side of her face inaudibly. “It’s so fucking hot,” Angela rarely swears, and Fareeha feels a jolt of arousal in her stomach. “It’s not bad embarrassment, though. It’s good, like when you yank on my hair and call me a slut.” Grinning widely, Angela stretches. She pulls her knees up underneath her on the couch, sitting on them to lean against Fareeha. They’re still for a moment until Fareeha moves her arm to rest it on Angela’s slender shoulders. “The feeling of release is the closest thing to an orgasm that I’ve felt.”

“I remember,” Fareeha muses, “when I was in the army.” Angela looks up at her, eyebrows raised.

“I would hope so.” She says, cracking a kind smile. Fareeha swats at Angela with her free hand, lazily patting her on the shoulder as she rolls her eyes with a grin she’s unable to hold back.

“We’d been in the desert for days doing training. Nothing for miles but small clusters of Bedouin people, absolutely no bathrooms. Standard, really. But that day we were being punished - I don’t remember what for.” Fareeha sounds wistful. “Likely someone with a mouth too loud for their own good. It was just drills, but when your sergeant is barking orders at you, you don’t want to ask to be excused.” She shifts slightly, leaning into her girlfriend even more. “I was desperate for the toilet. It was so early in the morning!”

Angela laughs, the sound ringing through the air like a cheerful bell.

“I hadn’t had time to go to the toilet! We were doing drills for hours. By the end, I could barely walk.” Fareeha snorts as she remembers it. “The walk back to base was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I thought my legs weren’t going to hold me. When I saw the toilet, finally, that was almost it. It was like my brain couldn’t cope with being so close. Those last steps…” Her eyes search Angela’s face, and she knows - without a doubt - that Angela is aroused. “And trying to take my trousers off!”

“But when you finally got to pee, I bet it felt so good.”

“Yeah,” Fareeha suppresses a shiver. “It did feel amazing.” She chuckles slightly breathlessly.   
One of Angela’s hands is resting on her thigh, thumb rubbing slow but meaningful circles against the soft, curved flesh. “What about you?” Angela murmurs lowly, voice heavy with undisguised lust. “Is there anything that you would like to do?”

Color immediately flushes Fareeha’s face, sitting high on her cheeks underneath the clearly defined dark ink of the eye of Horus tattoo. She shuffles a little, moving her legs but not pulling them away. 

“There is, isn’t there?” Angela doesn’t need a verbal answer; she can tell that there is. Fareeha nods, eyes looking at the plain carpet on the ground. It could do with a good going over with a hoover, she thinks idly.

“I want you to, ah, uh…” Fareeha trails off for a moment, rubbing her forehead with the hand not on Angela’s shoulder. “I like medical things.” She says, hoping it’ll be a sufficient enough answer. Angela’s mouth forms such a perfect ‘o’ of surprise that she almost looks comical. It’s only for a few seconds, however, and then she regains her composure.

“Do you need a check-up?” Asks Angela, the tone of her voice making it perfectly obvious that Fareeha’s message had been received loud and clear. Pharah nods, unable to bring herself to answer verbally in case she trips over her words. Angela’s fingers have now joined her thumb in rubbing Fareeha’s thighs, her trimmed nails gently dragging over the fabric of Fareeha’s shorts.

"Nothing hardcore, though." Fareeha's nose crinkles up again, more obviously this time. "I don't want you to hook me up to a heart monitor, or give me an enema or anything like that." Angela nods thoughtfully as she mentally takes notes.

Fareeha throws a quick compulsory glance around the room to confirm that it’s still empty - she knew it was, if someone had entered the room she would have heard them - before crushing her lips against Angela’s. She tangles her fingers in Angela’s hair, holding instead of pulling. For a moment their kiss is just their lips pressed together, but it doesn’t take long for Fareeha to suck Angela’s bottom lip gently into her mouth. She runs her tongue over it carefully, sending a shiver down her girlfriend’s spine before sinking her teeth in. Angela’s hips jerk and she whimpers softly.

Fareeha pulls away and gets to her feet, holding her hand out with a cocky grin on her face. 

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?”


	2. Downstream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like putting up 1k introductory chapters and then 4-5k second chapters is becoming a habit... Hopefully they're worth the wait!
> 
> I have a [Tumblr](http://mrachna.tumblr.com), come and say hello!

A week later, Fareeha glances down at her watch before she knocks on the door; the bright red numbers flash 02:00 at her and she’s glad to know she’s punctual - not that it’s exactly easy to be late to somewhere on base. Especially somewhere as easily accessible as the medical wing. 

She hears footsteps, and when the handle jiggles it’s followed by the door opening and she’s greeted by her girlfriend. Angela’s blonde hair is tied back from her face in her regular ponytail, she’s wearing white, buttoned-up doctor’s jacket that goes to mid-thigh with a blue stethoscope dangling from her neck.

“Come in, you’re right on time.” She states formally, spinning on her heel to make her way back over to the computer on her desk. Fareeha follows her in, cringing at the way the sound of the door shutting behind her sounds so, so loud in the otherwise silent room. 

There are four tall glasses on the desk, each full of water and Fareeha’s stomach feels uncomfortable just looking at it. She doesn’t need to go to the bathroom desperately yet, the ache in her bladder is barely a twinge but it’s enough that the thought of drinking more isn’t the most appealing thing right now.

“So, you’re here for a checkup, Fareeha?” Angela asks kindly, in her benevolent doctor’s tone. “Did you prepare in the way I asked?” Fareeha nods. She’d been asked to shower, shave herself bare, and drink a large bottle of water.

“Yes, Doctor.” She replies, not sure why she feels embarrassed already.

“Perfect.” Angela replies as she slides one of the glasses closer to Fareeha. “Please, help yourself.” They both know it’s not a suggestion. When Fareeha takes a drink, it’s colder than she expected it to be and she feels it go all the way down her throat and settle in her stomach.

She’s wearing loose clothes; not pyjamas, but baggy comfortable trousers and a t-shirt that technically does belong to her, but is usually claimed by Angela for pyjamas. Despite the looseness of the trousers, the waistband is putting pressure on her fairly full bladder and it makes her want to squirm.

Apart from the water on the desk, the room looks exactly like it normally does; half of it sectioned off with a curtain, behind which is a large examination bed.

“Is there anything that you need to speak to me about before we begin the examination?” Angela asks, face a perfect mask of professionalism and seriousness as if she wasn’t about to make her girlfriend wet herself.

“No, Doctor.”

“Okay. There’s a gown on the examination bed, please get changed. Underwear off too, please.” Angela turns back to the computer as if to completely ignore Fareeha, who gets to her feet with the glass still in her grasp and ducks behind the privacy curtain. She puts her drink down on a small table near the bed and as she strips off, folds her clothes - a habit she picked up on in childhood and never lost - and places them neatly next to it. Taking her pants off has helped a lot, the pushing of the waistband against her bladder now nonexistent.

The gown leaves her exposed as the back gapes and her long legs are on show as she sits on the bed with her feet dangling like she would if it was a legitimate exam. The towel on the bed feels rough against her bare backside, and her mouth feels oddly dry so she downs the rest of the water with only a little struggle.

When Angela steps through the curtain, she has another glass in her hands and she gives Fareeha a bright smile when she sees the previous one empty. Fareeha already feels overly full, too full to even entertain the idea of drinking another one but she knows she will; it’s what Angela wants. 

As Mercy puts on a pair of disposable exam gloves, Fareeha’s eyes follow her eagerly. There’s a moment of silence where Angela simply looks over her, blue eyes raking slowly downwards from head to toe and she wants to squirm under the scrutiny.

“Because you missed your last check-up, Fareeha, this one will have to be more thorough than usual.”

Angela steps closer, putting the earpieces of the stethoscope into her ears. Fareeha’s heart starts to pound in her chest at the same second that the cold metal chestpiece is pressed against it.

“Deep breaths.” Fareeha’s first breath is shaky after Angela speaks but she quickly gathers her composure and the rest are long and even, the rising and falling of her chest equal. A few moments pass, and then the instrument is placed off to the side. Angela pulls over a small device - a blood pressure monitor, Pharah recognizes - and wraps the cuff around Fareeha’s arm, leaving it to its own devices to beep and tighten. While it does, Angela quickly pops a thermometer between her lips, reading it when it beeps.

Fareeha can’t tell if the feeling in her lower stomach is pressure from her overfull bladder or arousal, but whatever it is makes her want to rock back and forward for some relief. She clenches her thighs together tightly.

“Take the gown off and lie back.” Mercy orders while she puts away the equipment she had just used and Fareeha complies. “Have a drink, too.”

“I don’t think I can.” Pharah says, and Angela scrutinizes her. 

“You don’t _think_ you can, or you can’t? Those are two very different things.” 

Fareeha gingerly rests her hands on her stomach, feeling the swell of her bladder. 

“I don’t think I can.” She repeats, sighing heavily.

“If you don’t think you can,” Angela indicates to the second, still full, glass of water. “Then you have twenty seconds to finish that.”

Fareeha’s eyes widen briefly, but she sits up to take the glass and raise it to her lips. The first slip is slow, tentative, and then she downs the rest in a few gulps with her head tipped back. 

“Well done. See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Angela’s words are kind, not mocking and Fareeha feels a swell of pride. Angela ducks behind the curtain for a moment and returns with the final two glasses. “You _will_ finish them all, it’s imperative to your examination. I thought I asked you to lie down?”

Faeeha’s back hits the bed quickly as she obeys and then reaches underneath herself to readjust the towel, having scrunched it up below her as she’d moved to drink. She’s sure that she can feel the liquid inside her slosh around as she breathes.

“Gown off.” Mercy orders and Pharah removes it, dropping the standard green hospital garb to the floor somewhat uncharacteristically of herself. Her nipples instantly harden as goosebumps break out on her stomach from the cool air rushing over it. Mercy’s cool hands rest on her breasts for a moment before she starts to gently roll her girlfriend’s pierced, dark, hard nipples between her forefinger and thumb. “How does this feel?”

“Ah,” Pharah answers, suppressing a shiver at the motions, “Fine.” For that, Mercy pinches her and her hips jolt off the bed a little. Pharah turns her head from looking at Mercy to looking at the ceiling, a little embarrassed that she has a medical kink in the first place, let alone the fact that she’s actually acting it out with a real doctor.

“Only fine? You need to keep me informed about how you are feeling, or if I cause pain.” There’s a hint of a smirk on Mercy’s lips; she knows exactly what this is doing to Fareeha, how it’s making her feel.

Fareeha’s face heats up as she speaks quietly.

“It feels good, Doctor.”

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“Sorry, Doctor. It feels good when you do that.” Fareeha bends her knees a little to allow her to press them tighter together, thighs tense due to the urgency she’s beginning to feel in her bladder. It’s still only a dull urge, but experience has taught her it won’t be dull for long. Soon it will be sharp and far more insistent.

Angela’s hands cup her breasts, well-trimmed fingernails slightly pressing in as she almost massages the tissue, moving her fingers in small circles with only a little pressure.

“Any pain?”

“No.”

Her hands move downwards to Fareeha’s ribs slowly and gently, fingertips like a soft caress and Fareeha giggles a little; it’s ticklish. In response Mercy does deliberately tickle her for a second, fingers fluttering like barely-there kisses. Her bladder lurches in response, a dangerous warning that she can’t relax and let herself be tickled. Suddenly, Angela’s hand is caressing the swollen area of her belly where she’s so desperately full. It’s a careful touch; enough pressure to not tickle her again but not so much pressure that it makes her job of holding her pee any harder than it naturally is.

“You’re so full,” Mercy says, voice full of awe and sounding slightly breathless at the prospect. “Keep your feet together, but spread your knees and open your legs.” Fareeha does, shivering as air rushes over her bare pussy. Having her legs so wide open makes takes the urgency of needing to pee worse. “You’re doing so well.” Angela reassures her, and it makes her feel like she’s glowing.

“What -” Fareeha swallows the lump in her throat. “ - are you going to do now?” 

“Measure your response to sexual stimulation.” As she speaks, Angela spreads medical-grade lubrication onto three of her fingers, showing them to Fareeha. Pharah isn’t sure how her girlfriend expects her to get fucked and not manage to piss all over herself, but maybe that’s what Mercy wants from her? As if she could read her mind, Mercy speaks again. “You can’t go until after I’ve finished this, and when I tell you to.” 

Being given an order like that makes Fareeha realize just how much she does need to go. She tries to ignore it and realizes that she can’t the exact moment that she feels one of Mercy’s fingers press against her entrance. It slides in easily; partially due to the lubricant but mostly because, Fareeha realizes, she’s absolutely soaking wet.

Angela moves leisurely, slowly pushing her finger into Fareeha’s cunt and then moving it back out again. It’s really more of a tease than anything, so almost immediately she adds the second finger. Fareeha turns her head to watch Angela and realizes her girlfriend is wearing nothing underneath her coat. The way she’s leaning to fuck Fareeha has caused the jacket to pull up and reveal a lot of bare, white thigh. How had she not noticed that there had been no hint of a skirt underneath it?!

“Are you n-” She stutters for a second as Mercy’s finger find that sensitive bundle of nerves and rubs it, “naked under there?”

“No.” Angela says simply, fingers continuing to slowly fuck in and out, catching on Fareeha’s g-spot every time. Every single time that she does, it sends a shockwave throughout the lower half of her body and her overfilled bladder. She can feel everything so intensely, every movement Angela makes is completely impossible for her to ignore; much like the knowledge of how full she is.

When Angela adds her third finger, that’s when Fareeha actually starts to whimper. Her cunt is full, her bladder is full; she needs relief. She’s so wet that she can actually hear it as Angela’s fingers slowly, too slowly for her liking, move. She reaches down to touch her clit - God, she thinks, everything is so sensitive now she’s shaved - and Angela swats her hand away.

“Please do not interfere with the examination, Fareeha.” Fareeha whines, fisting her hands in the towel beneath her. Every time Angela touches her g-spot it feels like she’s going to lose control and wet herself. She wants to push the other woman’s hand away and clamp her legs shut to deal with the rising urge to let go. 

Angela’s other hand rests on her belly for a moment, and then she bears down. Not too hard but enough to make Fareeha moan breathily, taken by surprise at how good it feels. Her hips move, tiny jerks as she meets Angela’s fingers fucking her, now faster and rougher - just how she likes it. Angela’s thumb presses against Fareeha’s clit, rubbing her from side to side and Fareeha’s moans become louder. She’s going to cum soon, she can tell and she knows that Angela can too.

“I assume this feels okay, then?” Her voice is cheerful and upbeat - She’s well aware of just how much her girlfriend likes what she’s doing.

“Yes, Doctor.” Her sentence is punctuated by small gasps and moans. “It feels amazing.” The next noise that comes from her mouth is a long, deep moan as Mercy pushes all three of her fingers extremely hard against that sensitive spot inside and rubs her clit faster. “Ah, ah…” The noises she’s making sound punched out of her, and it feels a little like they are too.

She’s so close to cumming, hips moving to meet Angela’s hand as her legs shake, when all of the movements that Angela is making stop.

“Why?!” Fareeha asks, frustrated moving her hips to try to get the stimulation she needs. Just a little more!

“You need a drink. It’s important to stay hydrated.”

Fareeha practically snatches both glasses from the table and downs them both, one after the other, in quick and fluid movements. She’s breathless afterwards, having chugged them down out of frustration despite the protests of her body.

“Good girl, well done.” Angela says and goes back to rubbing Fareeha’s clit as she fucks her, giving her what she so desperately needs. It takes no time at all for Fareeha’s breath to quicken, nearly silent as she hurtles towards orgasm. When she does cum she cums hard, legs trembling in their spread position, body going taut as her chest lifts from the bed. 

“Doctor!” She moans, eyes rolling into her head behind closed lids framed by long, dark lashes. For a moment, the world is bright behind her lids and as she relaxes she forgets even how badly she needs to pee.

When the need returns, it hits her hard and her arms cover her stomach. As soon as Mercy steps back to change her gloves, Fareeha pulls her legs shut and grabs at her oversensitive pubis as if it would soothe the urge and it does, barely.

She watches as Angela slowly, so slowly, unbuttons her coat and drops it to the floor. The sight takes Fareeha’s breath away, again. Angela’s wearing nothing underneath the coat - nothing but lingerie that shows more than it covers. Her navy bra matches the panties, both made out of the same silken material with lace trim. It’s strapless as it supports Angela’s ample chest, but there are little slits in the cups and Fareeha can see her nipples through it. Fareeha feels her cunt clench in arousal as she realizes there’s most likely a matching slit over her girlfriends pussy as well.

“One more thing before you sit up, I need you to open your legs again.” Mercy says, brandishing the thermometer that she had used earlier, now covered in the same lubricant her fingers had been. When she realizes the implication, Pharah’s cheeks flush with humiliation but she still spreads her legs again, with a stabbing pain to her bladder now that there’s nothing getting her off to distract her.

“Reach around and part your cheeks, please.” The clinical, professional tone has gone and Fareeha can tell that she’s no longer the only one who is aroused. Fareeha does so, grabbing large handfuls of her ass to pull her cheeks apart and expose her hole, tilting her hips higher off the bed on purpose.

There’s only a few moments before the cold metal tip presses against her hole and she relaxes, allowing it to slip in easily. Angela holds it still for a few moments, eyes on Fareeha’s red, flustered face until she removes it and checks the reading. With a practiced ease, she tosses it into the bin.  
“Just one more thing before we’re done here today, but everything looks good so far.” Angela takes one of Fareeha’s hands and tugs gently, encouraging her back into a sitting position with her legs over the edge once more.

That just makes Fareeha need to pee even more, sitting as if she was on a toilet.

“How does your bladder feel?” Angela asks and Fareeha shifts position a little.

“Full. I really need to go.” Her hand comes back down between her legs to grab herself, relieving a little of the pressure.

“Soon, Fareeha.” Both of Angela’s hands cup the - now even larger - swell of her girlfriend’s over inflated bladder, and then she pushes so hard that a few drops leak out onto Pharah’s own fingers. Fareeha covers her face with her other hand, embarrassed and humiliated to be letting go of something that’s usually so easily controlled. The pressure relents a little, but Angela’s hands are still there and Fareeha is genuinely unsure of how long she’s able to hold on for.

Fareeha positively squirms, her brown skin sweaty and her eyes wide, brows furrowed. Mercy’s hand is a more insistent pressure than her bladder as she carefully presses down on Pharah’s lower belly, fingers prodding and poking in a way that only comes from an intimate and experienced knowledge of the human body. Her hands are chilly - they always are, Mercy runs cold- and that just makes the need more intense.

“Please,” Fareeha begs, not sure what she’s begging for. She wants Angela’s hands off her stomach, she wants to pee right there and then, she wants a toilet - but she _doesn’t_ want to stop, doesn’t consider using their safeword for even a fraction of a second.

Angela nudges apart her knees and she whines loudly, sure that she’s going to lose control and go, but she doesn’t. She can’t, she hasn’t been told to yet. Mercy moves into the space that she’s just created, body pressed close against Pharah’s, who is sitting right at the edge. She pulls Fareeha’s hands away from her crotch and then returns to massaging her belly.

Suddenly, again, Mercy presses hard with both of her hands and there’s absolutely no stopping the small stream that escapes before Fareeha’s body automatically reacts and cuts it off. Fareeha’s embarrassment doubles when she realizes that the closeness of them both means that there’s no way she didn’t just get urine on her girlfriend’s lovely panties. Sure enough, Mercy shifts and Pharah can feel the warm, wet material pressing against her. 

Her squirming is becoming more noticeable, hips moving and legs swinging back and forth as she tries to do anything she can to make the urge lessen, to no avail. She’s too far gone now to avoid or ignore the inevitable - she is going to piss all over the floor of the medical examination room, as well as her girlfriend.

“You can go whenever you’re ready, Fareeha.” Angela speaks kindly, slowly pushing harder and harder on Fareeha’s bladder until the dam breaks. When she finally starts to piss it’s a complete relief. It’s so warm, which surprises her - she’s never been so intimately aware of her own bodily functions like this before.

She feels it soak into Angela’s panties and the towel at first, but as the stream becomes too forceful it starts to run down Angela’s legs and then she hears it hit the floor and puddle. Her cheeks are so red and she’s breathing heavily, tears rolling down her face from both her embarrassment and the overwhelming pleasure she feels although she knows she shouldn’t. Fareeha can smell it; slightly acrid but not overwhelmingly so due to how well-hydrated she is. It should turn her off but it really doesn’t.

One of Angela’s hands moves from her belly to her cunt, two fingers spreading her labia. It makes the stream feel even more forceful and she whimpers, watching Angela’s face. Her eyes are bright despite the dark of her pupils swallowing up most of that brilliant blue, her own cheeks flushed just like Fareeha’s and, as Fareeha watches, she licks her lips. She’s clearly absolutely unashamedly loving it

“Doctor,” Pharah moans, “this feels so good…” Angela smiles brightly, happy that Fareeha is actually genuinely enjoying herself rather than just doing it to try for her sake. She leans in to capture Fareeha’s full lips in a kiss, tongue immediately delving into the other woman’s mouth to swallow the small panting breaths and whimpers that Fareeha is letting out as she pisses.

They make out until the stream slows, and then finally stops and starts to cool. Only then does Angela break the kiss and step away, grabbing a large white puppy training pad from a drawer and putting it face-down on the floor to quickly deal with the large, nearly clear puddle.

There’s silence while Fareeha gathers her thoughts. She’s still embarrassed about pissing all over herself and Angela as if she was a child who couldn’t control her bladder, but she also has a far larger appreciation for the act than she did before they started.

“I think,” she starts, getting Angela’s attention. “I’d do that again, definitely.”

“Really?!” Angela sounds a little happy but mostly genuinely surprised.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I’d like it enough to do it again, but I did.”

“I love you.” Angela says, smiling that little smile that makes her lips curl in a way that she reserves strictly for the woman she loves.

“I love you too, habibiti.” 

“We should go clean ourselves up.” There’s a shower attached to the exam room, and Fareeha slides off the examination bed. She grabs the towel and flushes again as she realizes that there’s another puppy training pad on the bed underneath it; stained, wet, and full of her urine. Angela puts it swiftly into the garbage disposal, along with the one on the floor. The towel goes off to the side in a small washing basket.

“We have an hour before the cleaning omnic arrives.” Angela says, grabbing Fareeha by the hand and all but dragging her towards the showers.

Angela strips her underwear while Fareeha messes with the dials and once it’s turned on they both step under it, relaxing as the hot water cascades down their bodies. It doesn’t take long before Fareeha pulls Angela in for another make-out session, pinning her against the cool tiles in order to absolutely dominate the kiss. Her hands are everywhere; one moment they’re in Angela’s hair, tugging and pulling and the next they’re cupping her girlfriend’s breasts. 

Fareeha loves everything about Angela’s boobs; the size, the shape, the way they look in clothes, the way they feel pressed against her - she especially loves the small, rosy inverted nipples that her girlfriend’s embarrassed about. Fareeha pinches them hard, squeezing them for a few seconds before ending the kiss and dropping her head to trail nips down Angela’s neck, pushing damp blonde strands out of the way with her nose in the process.

Angela’s hands rest gently on Fareeha’s head, fingers carefully entangling themselves in thick, dark strands as Fareeha takes one of her nipples into her mouth, carefully sucking until the nipple comes out, and then flicking her tongue over it. Angela sighs at the feeling and Fareeha grabs the shower head, bringing it down to Angela’s legs. Angela spreads them a little, enough for Fareeha to angle the powerful jets of water to hit her clit and when they do, she swears under her breath in German.

“Fareeha!” Fareeha knows it’s not going to take long for Angela to cum at all so she keeps it up, angling the showerhead back and forth to vary the sensations on that little nub and Angela almost screams, fingers tightening in Pharah’s hair. Her hips move in tiny twitches and when Fareeha easily pushes two fingers into her soaking wet hole she whines. It only takes a few seconds of Fareeha’s fingers and the powerful jets to tip Angela over the edge and she cums quickly with a cry of Fareeha’s name. 

“If - If you weren’t holding me up, I would fall down.” Angela says through labored breaths, legs shaky and Fareeha laughs openly, sound echoing off the tiles.

“Tell me when your legs work then, Bambi.” She teases harmlessly, grabbing shampoo off the side - it’s Angela’s regular brand and Fareeha finds herself wondering if she showers here often.

After a few moments, Angela takes a deep breath and pushes at Fareeha’s hips. She backs up and flips open the shampoo, pouring out a palmful and starting to massage it into Angela’s hair She always marvels at how different it feels from her own; Angela’s hair is thin and fine, her own thicker and fuller. Angela returns the favor, shampooing Pharah’s hair and making it into a soapy, standing fauxhawk and then laughing at her handiwork.

“Rude.” Fareeha teases, no malice in her voice as she moves on to the soap, pouring liberal amounts onto Angela’s shoulders and starting to soap up her girlfriend.

The rest of the shower is a simple affair, both of them washing and then drying themselves quickly. Fareeha puts back on the clothes she arrived in, and the trousers are far more comfortable now that she isn’t holding her bladder. Angela changes into a pair of pajamas, obviously having brought and stored them in advance.

Their fingers are loosely linked as they walk back to their room, both musing over things in their mind. When they reach their destination, Angela opens the door and heads inside first, leaving Fareeha to lock it behind her.

They get into bed together, Fareeha sitting up against the pillows with Angela nestled against the crook of her arm and her chest.

“I did like that, you know.” Fareeha is first to break the silence, watching Angela out of the corner of her tattoo-lined eye. “I’m not just saying that.”

“I know.” Angela says, smile on her lips. “I can tell when you lie, baby. I’m glad you like it.” She squeezes Fareeha’s hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for… What you done.” Fareeha’s not vague out of embarrassment, she just can’t find a better way to summarize it.

“You’re welcome as well. It’s a common kink.” Angela offers lightly. “You’re definitely not the first person who has proposed it to me. You’re the first person that I’ve done it for, though.”

Fareeha stops, pulling Angela into a bear hug, too overtaken with love and gratitude to do much else.

“So, do you have any other things that you want to try?”


End file.
